


Blind Cupid

by aircaliburs



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-06-25 10:51:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19744204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aircaliburs/pseuds/aircaliburs
Summary: After being suspended from Phantagrade Public High School, Medusa is enrolled in Sephira Academy. It is here where she meets Athena, a gorgeous, goddess-like girl on the student council. Medusa quickly finds that she gets great joy from pulling pranks that piss off the strict Athena.But there seems to be more to her feelings towards Athena. She couldn't be in love with her... could she?(high school au for my fave lesbians)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind.  
> And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.  
> Nor hath Love’s mind of any judgment taste—  
> Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste."  
> \- A Midsummer's Night Dream, 1.1.234-237

Medusa liked stirring up trouble. There was no particular reason why, at least that she could think of. With the occasional help of her friend Satyr, she had started a food fight during B lunch, wrapped cellophane around the main stairwell, and let a live chicken loose in a school assembly - all in her first two years of high school. But the chicken incident in May of her sophomore year was the straw that broke the principal’s back. Literally. When the frantic chicken leapt onto the stage where he was speaking, Principal Carl chased it around to catch it, tripped, fell off the stage, and fractured his hip. Naturally, Medusa and Satyr were suspended for the last three weeks of the semester. But while Satyr returned to Phantagrade High the following August, Medusa’s parents thought it would be beneficial for their daughter to attend a school that was stricter, more structured - a school with the kind of proper, focused environment that would dissuade her from causing trouble. She was a bright girl, they always said. Why didn’t she behave herself and use her full potential in academics? And so Medusa was enrolled, kicking and screaming, in the private Sephira Academy. 

Both of Medusa’s sisters, Stetho and Euryale, had gone to Sephira. Medusa had initially chosen not to go because she liked public school - she liked the freedom of no uniforms and she liked her friends at Phantagrade. Mostly she liked it because her sisters never attended there, which meant that none of the Phantagrade teachers knew them and didn’t have anyone to compare Medusa to. Because as much as Medusa loved her older sisters, she hated being compared to them. She hated being compared to anyone, really, but especially her over-achieving sisters. 

Nonetheless, on a humid August morning, Medusa dressed in a white collared shirt with a navy blue tie, a blue pleated shirt that reached her knees, and black tights. Even though Sephira was walking distance from the house, her mother drove her there on her way to work - just to make sure she didn’t try to skip, Medusa suspected. 

Of course, going to Sephira was terrible. 

For one, the thing that Medusa had been avoiding at public school - the comparison to her sisters - was a true annoyance. Stetho and Euryale had both graduated as valedictorian in the two years before Medusa went to Sephira and were now at university. Every teacher knew this, and every teacher mentioned it. Even the aloof Mr. Raphael mentioned it once when Medusa’s bottle rocket failed to make it off the ground in physics class - “You’re not as interested in science as Stetho, hm,” he said. Just like that! And so Medusa silently threatened to kick his ass when she graduated.

But after a month at her new school, Medusa kind of got used to the comparison. So she wasn’t like her sisters. So what. What really bothered her, she realized, was how absolutely  _ boring  _ private school was. Everyone was proper and well-behaved and mostly wealthy. Sure, the rich kids would have their parties on the weekends, but that was just an expression of luxury. Medusa wanted something to spice up school life. She wanted to start some trouble. 

Which lead her to her solution: the coffee scheme. 

It was ultimately harmless, as harmless as the time she replaced all the framed family photos in her house with photos of Danny Devito or the time she hot-glued her parents’ toilet seat shut. All she would do was, over the course of two weeks, replace the coffee in the teacher’s lounge with coffee of gradually increased caffeination. Then, after leaving them on the most potent roast she could find, she’d replace it with decaf and watch the chaos that ensued.

She admitted it was somewhat targeted at Raphael, who drank at least six cups of black coffee a day. It would be especially fun to see his serious ass nod off on the job. 

So she went to work. Every day after school, she would go to the teacher’s lounge and pretend to make copies of a random worksheet for one of her teachers. Then, when no one was looking, she’d load the coffee maker with the blend of the day, usually medium roast with increasing amounts of light. Afterwards, she would replace the coffee in the tin in the cupboard with her special blend, just in case someone made more coffee later in the day. No would question the coffee being in the maker because they all assumed that another teacher had done it. Medusa had only stepped in to make copies, after all. 

On the last day of the scheme, Medusa was scooping decaf Folgers grounds into the coffee maker when she heard someone else walk into the lounge. 

“You’re Medusa, right? What are you doing in here?”

Medusa turned to see a tall, blonde-haired girl standing in the doorway. Athena. Her hair was braided back and she was wearing a T-shirt and athletic shorts, which revealed her toned, strong figure. A sheet of paper dangled from her left hand. Medusa had physics with her, but didn’t know much about her besides her name and the fact that she was hot as hell. 

Medusa blushed. “What’s it to you?” she asked. 

“You shouldn’t be in the teacher’s lounge without permission,” Athena replied. A slight frown crossed her lips, pulling her brows down with it. She walked across the room to where Medusa stood with the coffee maker. “Why are you making coffee?”

“I’m just doing a favor for Mr. Raphael.” Medusa’s body tensed in defense. Athena was so much taller than her that Medusa was eye level with her chest. She could see the outline of a sports bra beneath her shirt, but she could still tell that Athena was at least two cup sizes bigger than her. When Medusa wore a sports bra, she was as flat as a tabletop. The figure in front of her was that of a goddess. 

_ A goddess?  _ she thought.  _ What are you thinking? Chill out! Athena’s about to rat you out and you’re getting distracted by her tits? _

“Isn’t that normally a teacher’s aide job?”

“Well, my older sister used to be Raphael’s aide, and since he doesn’t have a new one for this year he asked me to help him out and stuff,” Medusa lied. 

“Really?”

Warmth rushed to Medusa’s cheeks and her fingernails dug into her palms. “What are  _ you  _ doing in here, anyways? You can’t police me! You’re a student, too.”

Athena held up the paper in her hand. “Copies for Coach Michael.”

“Coaches need copies made?”

“For away-game permission slips, yes.”

Medusa felt a bit dumb for not realizing that, but then again, she hadn’t been in athletics since her stint in her middle school’s tennis program. “What sport do you play, anyways?”

“Volleyball,” Athena said as she went to the copier and set the permission slip in the tray on top. 

The copier hummed and spat out twenty or so papers. When it finished, Athena picked up the finished stack, flipped through them, and turned to leave.

“You’re not gonna tattle on me or anything?”

“Tattle?” Athena asked. “That would be immature. As long as you’re not causing trouble, I don’t see much of a problem. Just make sure Raphael gives you a hall pass so other teachers don’t write you up.”

Medusa nodded. “Yeah. Got it.”

Athena walked out of the room, and Medusa was left alone.

Her heart was still hammering against her chest as she pulled the coffee tin out of the cupboard. It wasn’t a nervous beat, though. She wasn’t afraid of getting in trouble. Even when she let the chicken loose at her old school, she hadn’t felt like this. It was more like… surprise, maybe. She was surprised that even though Athena was strict, she wasn’t unreasonable. She’d let her go. 

Medusa’s mind wandered to the image of Athena - her strong thighs poking out of blue shorts, her shoulders that were perfectly in-between broad and average, those short blonde hairs that didn’t fit into her braid and curled around her cheeks instead - and her heart beat harder. 

_ Why are you still freaking out?  _ Medusa asked herself.  _ She’s hot, so what?  _

After taking a deep breath, she took the coffee tin to the trash and dumped out the leftover high-caffeine coffee. She didn’t just develop a crush on Athena… did she? Those things didn’t happen so quickly. Even in rom-coms. Kat hated Patrick for _months_ until she realized she liked him in _10 Things I Hate About You_. Nope, this was not a crush. Nope, nope, nope. 

In a matter of minutes, Medusa had completed the next-to-last step of her prank. All of the coffee in the teacher’s lounge was now decaffeinated. She scooped her backpack up from where she’d rested it against the wall, slung it onto her shoulders, and exited the room. The only thing she had left to do was come back to school the next morning and laugh her ass off as dysfunction ensued. 

* * *

With physics being Medusa’s second period class, she had to wait through first period Spanish to see how Raphael was doing. Ms. Cybele, the Spanish teacher, was a tea-drinker and was unaffected. Medusa glanced at the clock throughout class, waiting for the bell to ring so she could go see the fruits of her labor. 

At 9:15, Medusa walked into physics class to see Raphael slumped over his desk in his folded arms and snoring. The handful of students who had gotten to class before her were sitting in their seats were chatting quietly among themselves - “Raphael is asleep? Weird.” “Don’t wake him up, he’ll give us work to do.” “Bet he’s hungover.”

“I bet I could write on his face while he’s knocked out,” Medusa said. 

The other students snickered. “Do it,” a red-headed girl urged, but Medusa already had a green highlighter in her hand and was walking over to Raphael’s desk. 

As sneakily as she could, Medusa uncapped the highlighter and pressed it to the side of Raphael’s forehead that poked out from the cradle of his arms. She hadn’t expected the coffee scheme to work this well. Raphael was  _ out  _ \- he didn’t notice at all as Medusa drew stars and flowers on his face.

Other kids walked in and had to hold in their laughter when they saw what Medusa was doing. But just as she began to draw something more phallic, Athena walked in. 

“What are you doing?!” Athena whispered harshly. 

Medusa capped the highlighter and dropped it into her cardigan pocket. “I’m just having fun,” she said. “Why are you so mad?”

“You’re vandalizing his face!”

“It’s just highlighter. It’ll wash off easy.”

“That’s not the point,” Athena growled. The tardy bell rang. 

Medusa walked back to her desk, as if she was just another student who was ready for class. “Whelp, looks like Raphael can’t teach today,” she said. “Guess we don’t have anything to do.”

But Athena wouldn’t have that. “Mr. Raphael,” she said, trying to wake him up. “Mr. Raphael, the tardy bell rang.” 

But the teacher didn’t move. Athena had to resort to shaking him with her hand to rouse him, and even still, Raphael barely cracked open his eyes. “What?” he mumbled.

“Sir, the tardy bell rang.”

Raphael looked over his arms to the digital clock on his desk. “Oh. So it did.” Groggily, he pushed himself up from the desk and grabbed his black coffee thermos. “Put on a Bill Nye video or something. I’m going to get more coffee,” he told Athena. 

“But sir, weren’t we going to start the waves lab today…?” 

But Raphael was out of the classroom before he could answer Athena’s question. Once he was gone, the class erupted in giggles and cheers. “You heard the man!” said Medusa. “Put on Bill!”

Athena turned to Medusa and scowled, tensing her body as if she was holding back something that she wanted to say. “Fine,” she said as she went around behind Raphael’s desk, hunched over his laptop, and pulled up a Bill Nye video about waves. 

She turned off the lights and sat down at her desk without another word. Athena said nothing for the rest of the class, even as half of the students chanted “Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill!” along with the theme song. Raphael returned with his coffee cup at some point, but went right back to sleep at his desk. If he had noticed the markings on his forehead, he didn’t care enough to berate the class about it. 

He was still sound asleep when the bell rang to end second period. Medusa got up to leave, proud of her accomplishment, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her as she exited the door. “Medusa,” Athena hissed. “Come with me.”

Medusa rolled her eyes as she followed Athena to the stairwell across the hall from Raphael’s class. Athena parked them beneath the staircase. 

“What is it?” Medusa asked, leaning against the wall. 

“You’re the one responsible for Raphael falling asleep,” Athena said. She crossed her arms. “This has to do with you tampering with the coffeemaker in the teachers’ lounge.”

“What? He was just tired, Athena. Probably had a big night last night or something. No big.”

“Yes ‘big!’ He was fast asleep! You… did you put  _ decaf  _ in the coffeemaker?”

“Maybe by accident.”

Athena exhaled through her nose. “I’m going to report this. You can’t just do things like that!”

“Like what! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“You were trespassing! And… and conspiring against authority!”

Medusa laughed. “Sure, sure. But what evidence do you have, officer? Hm?”

“I have evidence enough in my own knowledge. Next time you pull something like this, it isn’t going to get past me. I was stupid to think you were really just doing a favor in the lounge yesterday.”

“Well, think whatever you want, but it’s just a harmless prank. Chill out. Why are you policing me, anyways? Why didn’t you call my out in class if you know so much, hm?”

“As a member of student council, it is my duty to keep order within the student body. It is not my place to cause a scene and aggravate the disruption you started.”

“Oh whatever. Elections aren’t until next month, aren’t they?”

“My term as sophomore class president lasts until the next election.”

Medusa raised her hands in fake surrender. “Ohhh, didn’t know I’d pissed off the  _ president  _ of all people. What am I to do?”

“This is a warning,” Athena said, pointing her index finger at Medusa. “Next time you pull something like this, it’s going to the principal.”

Medusa felt warmth rush to her face and turned her head so Athena wouldn’t notice. “Sure. Whatever,  _ Officer Athena _ .”

“Get to class,” Athena said, and walked off.

“You know, it’s your fault if I’m late!” Medusa shouted after her. Athena was gone, though, lost in the midst of the crowd of students passing between classes. 

A smile crossed Medusa’s lips as she left the cover of the stairs to go to English. It was a small prank, but it was the first of many. Of course, Athena would be on her ass about it, but Sephira would be a lot more exciting from this point onward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! So on a whim I decided to start a GBF fic lol. I started playing it this January and loved Athena's fate episode with Medusa. I want more content for them so I guess I have to make it myself lol.  
> I'm hoping each chapter will be a bit more episodic that things I've done before, so each update can kind of stand on its own. I'm also still learning more about GBF (there is... so much content) so hopefully I'll have more things to add!
> 
> ALSO disclaimer: not everything that happens in this fic is actually stuff that would reasonably happen in a high school lmao


	2. The Campaign Catastrophe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!! Shameless self-promo time: I really enjoy interacting with readers and other writers to please follow me on Twitter @aircaliburs !

“As a reminder, submissions for student council candidacy are due to the front office by this Friday,” Principal Lucifer said over the PA. It was Wednesday afternoon, the day following the coffee incident, and Medusa was in eighth period honors history. “No late submissions will be allowed.”

Medusa turned to Athena. They had this class together as well, and thanks to the seating chart, sat next to each other. “Hey, Athena, is that right? You just submit a form and you’re running for student council?”

Athena nodded. The rest of the afternoon announcements droned in the background. “You aren’t thinking of running, are you?”

“What? Maybe,” Medusa replied. A hint of a smile crossed her lips. 

Athena was not amused. “If you want to be in student council, you have to take it seriously.”

“Oh, whatever. I just thought it’s weird how easy it is to run. At my school you need to be nominated by a teacher to be on the ballot.”

“Hm. I guess because Sephira is smaller, nominations aren’t necessary. There’s usually only a handful of people up for each position, anyway. Sometimes no one is in the running at all.”

“No one?”

“Yeah, usually for positions like historian that tend to be forgotten about. I think they usually put the runner-up for president in those spots.”

The afternoon announcements ended, and Mr. Uriel brought the classes attention back to the War of 1812. But Medusa had more important things on her mind - namely, the next prank she could pull that would send Athena through the roof. 

* * *

Medusa thought it was weird that at Sephira, everyone had the same lunch period. It only made sense, given that the school was much smaller than her old one, but she still felt a bit uncomfortable being in the same room as the entire student body. Because even though the entire school ate lunch together, Medusa still sat by herself. 

During lunch on Thursday, she finished a slice of lukewarm pepperoni pizza before leaving for the front office. She pushed open the glass door of the reception area to see a certain blonde-haired girl already there, hunched over a sheet of paper on the counter. 

Athena looked up when she heard the door open, her brows raising in a silent question. 

“Hi, Athena,” Medusa greeted as she walked up to the counter herself. “What are you doing here? I thought good girls didn’t go to the principal’s office.” 

“I’m filling out my student council application,” Athena replied, turning back to the paper.

“Oh? I would have thought you’d already done it.”

“I was deliberating what position I want to run for.”

Medusa picked up an application from the stack next to Athena. “You aren’t just going for president again?” 

“Wait, are you actually running?”

“Maaaaaaaaybe.” Medusa plucked a pen from the cup on the counter and began scribbling away. 

“I already told you, you need to take it seriously,” Athena said as the set her application in a wire basket sitting on the counter. Taped to the side was a piece of printer paper with “STUDENT COUNCIL SUBMISSIONS” typed on it in boldface Comic Sans. 

“And what makes you think I won’t?”

“You drew a penis on a teacher’s face, for one.”

Medusa dated the bottom of the application and dropped in the basket on top of Athena’s. “First of all, that was an eggplant. Second of all, I feel like I’m being profiled right now.”

“I don’t think you know what that means.”

“I know what eggplants are.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Whatever, whatever.” Medusa walked away to leave the office. “You’re so critical. Chill out, Athena.”

Athena sighed through her nose. “We’ll see how this plays out, then.”

“I guess we will,” Medusa sang as she pulled open the door. 

* * *

“Junior class student council candidates are as follows,” Principal Lucifer announced over the PA Monday morning. “For president, Olivia Noire, Tiamat Elish, and Nezha Li. For vice president, Athena Pallas and Hamsa Duckworth. For secretary, Baal Spymur. For historian, Garuda Suparna and… is that a nickname? ...Ahem, ‘Worm on a String.’”

Medusa nonchalantly stretched her arms across her desk while the rest of the class broke into giggles and whispers. Not many people at Sephira knew her for anything besides being one of the Gorgon sisters, so no one seemed to suspect her as Worm on a String’s author. If the write-in actually won against Garuda, she would have a good laugh. 

Unfortunately, Athena didn’t seem to have any reaction to the fake candidate when Medusa saw her in physics class. Maybe she really thought that “Worm on a String” was someone’s nickname. Bummer. Medusa wanted to see her riled up over someone messing with student politics. Oh well. The prank wouldn’t really come to a head until election day, anyway. 

Or so Medusa thought. 

After candidates were announced, most everyone in the running began plastering campaign posters around school - printed flyers, paintings on butcher paper, poster board covered in chunky glitter letters. Medusa hadn’t planned on doing any of this. If someone saw her putting up Worm on a String ads, the secret would be out and the fun would be over. She was still debating how she would anonymously campaign for the write in when she walked into the cafeteria Wednesday morning and saw that the work had been done for her. 

Taped to the wall above the vending machines was an eight-foot-long butcher paper mural bearing a painting of a red worm on a string toy and the slogan “VOTE 4 WORM ON A STRING,” with the n and g of “STRING” squished together where the artist had run out of space at the edge of the paper. Medusa laughed when she saw it. Thank God  _ someone  _ at this school shared her sense of humor. 

But as the week progressed, it seemed that it wasn’t just one person who was enthralled with Worm on a String. Flyers and posters popped up everywhere - from worm-themed parodies of the democratic donkey and republican elephant to poorly-photoshopped pictures of Napoleon Dynamite wearing a “Vote for Worm” shirt to just plain pictures of worms on strings taped to every other wall. As election day approached, Worm on a String was becoming a sensation. 

_ No, Worm on a String is a movement, _ Medusa thought.  _ A revolution! _

A week after that Wednesday, two days before the election, Uriel was pulling up a PowerPoint about the Monroe Doctrine when he asked the class, “What in the world is this ‘worm on a string’ all over school?”

Medusa kept her mouth shut.

“It’s a meme,” one kid explained, holding back laughter. “Everyone is posting ‘vote for worm’ stuff on Instagram.”

“A  _ meem _ ?” asked Uriel. 

“Worm on a string is running for student council,” someone else said. “And we support it!”

“But then who is it you’re supporting?”

A stone-cold Athena answered him. “It’s a write-in candidate, sir.”

The teacher shook his head as he switched the PowerPoint into presentation mode. “Write-ins never win. Levi, can you get the lights?”

“Poor Garuda,” Athena said. “Her campaign is being upstaged by someone’s write in vote. She’s the only real candidate for historian.”

No one replied as Uriel began his lecture. Medusa tensed and stared straight ahead, pretending to be paying attention to the details of Manifest Destiny. Was Athena’s comment directed at her? She didn’t name her, but Medusa felt the daggers of her words sink into her back. But how would Athena know that she was Worm on a String? Medusa had taken care to make sure she didn’t see what she wrote on the application when they submitted theirs. 

Whatever. Athena was probably just being Athena, acting all champion-of-justice-y and mature and dense. The joke was flying fifty feet over her head. Worm on a String wasn’t upstaging anyone! Medusa didn’t even know who Garuda was! It was just a prank. It was all fun! And if Athena couldn’t appreciate that, then the problem was her’s, not Medusa’s. Medusa was just there for a good time. 

* * *

After class, Medusa snooped around Instagram and Twitter to see what that one classmate was talking about. Sure enough, Worm on a String was  _ everywhere.  _ It had already been a cultural icon in its own right, but in Sephira circles, it had become a legendary political figure. The candidate had made many grand promises, from free healthcare to bringing the troops home. The memes that were already plastered all over the walls of Sephira were also abundant on the internet, being retweeted and reposted on almost every classmate’s account she looked at. By the time she fell asleep Wednesday night, Medusa had seen enough Napoleon Dynamite wearing “Vote for Worm” shirts for a lifetime.

Medusa followed some of the classmates she was on somewhat-familiar terms with and watched Worm on a String’s social media campaign in the two days leading up to the Friday election. And as the big day approached, support for her candidate only became more and more visible, until it was evident that some people were actually planning on voting for it. 

During lunch on Friday, the counselors sat at the front of the cafeteria with a cardboard ballot box for each class. Medusa waited in line after she finished eating. Eavesdropping on the conversations of others in line, she could tell that Worm on a String was actually a topic for debate. Some people supported the write-in but planned on voting for Garuda, the real candidate. Others didn’t care. Others would support Worm on a String through hell and high water - Medusa couldn’t tell if this was a joke or not. Still, she had to hold in a laugh. The meme candidate was popular! It really could win! A prank infiltrating Athena’s precious student council - that would mess with her for sure. Medusa couldn’t wait to see the result of all this.

As Medusa reached the front of the line, the student behind her asked his friend, “Does anyone know who submitted Worm on a String?”

“Nope. I don’t think so, anyway.”

“Who could it be, then? Like, someone has to be behind it.”

Medusa couldn’t resist. “I don’t think it matters who wrote it in,” she quipped. “It’s just a joke, after all.”

“I guess so,” the second student replied, followed by a light laugh. 

Then it was Medusa’s turn to vote. The ballots were pre-printed, of course, so she had to circle all the names she was voting for: Nezha (because she had English with him), Athena (because whatever), Baal (by default, as he was uncontested), and, of course, Worm on a String. She then folded her ballot in half and slipped it into the box, satisfied that Worm on a String had at least one vote. 

* * *

The votes were counted Friday evening and announced during lunch the following Monday. Medusa was in her normal spot at the end of a table, picking at squishy green beans on her blue plastic lunch tray when Principal Lucifer climbed up the fusty wooden stage at the front of the cafeteria and took the microphone. 

“I am going to announce this year’s student council representatives,” he said, not bothering with an introduction. “When all the representatives for a class have been announced, please come in front of the stage to meet with your sponsor.”

Medusa took a sip of unflavored soy milk. She barely listened to the announcement of and applause for the freshman and sophomore student councils, waiting for the decision on the only election she cared about.

“And that concludes the sophomore class representatives. Now, for the junior class,” the principal finally said. Medusa turned to face the stage, pressing her toes against the floor in apprehension. 

“Junior class president goes to Nezha Li.”

The cafeteria applauded.

“Vice president will be Athena Pallas.”

Applause. Medusa rolled her eyes, even though she had voted for her.

“Secretary will be Baal Spymur.”

Applause.

“Historian will be…”

Medusa held her breath.

“Worm… on a String…?”

The cafeteria exploded into raucous cheers. 

“YES!” Medusa shouted, and then devolved into uncontrollable laughter. It worked! She had pranked the entire junior class with a fake candidate. 

“Err, junior class representatives, please come to the stage and meet with your sponsor,” Lucifer concluded. “And now for the senior class…”

Medusa was in a daze. This was probably the biggest prank she had ever pulled off. She couldn’t wait to see Athena’s reaction in history class that afternoon - surely she’d be furious. It was going to be funny as hell. It already was, hearing Principal Lucifer stumble over the fake name. Worm on a String really was a legend, a revolution. 

After the senior class representatives had been announced and the cheers for them died down, a woman with long brown hair and a floral-print dress stepped up to the stage. She whispered something to the principal and then took the microphone from him.

“Can Medusa Gorgon please come to the stage? That’s all,” she said.

Medusa felt her heart drop from her chest to the floor. 

She stared at her unfinished meal for a minute or so before finally pushing away from the table and standing. Reluctantly, she walked in between the long, grey cafeteria tables to the front. There was no way. There was  _ no way _ she had been caught. But then why was she being called up? Was it a coincidence? Was there some other reason she needed to talk to the admins? 

“Ah, Medusa, is it?” the brunette woman asked her when she arrived at the stage area. Standing with the woman was the new junior student council, who had ended their conversation when they saw Medusa approach. The slightest of smiles graced Athena’s lips. 

Medusa nodded. “That’s me. I was called up here?”

“It seems that you have been elected junior class historian,” the woman replied.

“Wh-what?” Medusa sputtered. “How? I wasn’t even in the run-” But as soon as she began to say that, Medusa realized the major oversight in her campaign. Blood rushed to her cheeks. 

“No, your name wasn’t in the running,” said Athena, crossing her arms under her chest. “But I did personally see you submit an application for candidacy. And seeing as you are the only candidate whose real name didn’t show up on the ballot, it is clear that you are the candidate behind the elected ‘Worm on a String.’”

“It still isn’t my name, though! A fake candidate won! Shouldn’t it go to Garuda?”

But Nezha shook his head. “We discussed it for a moment after Athena revealed what she knew about the whole Worm on a String thing. At the end of the day, the fake name  _ did  _ earn the majority vote, and the difference in cotes was too much to warrant a recount. It wouldn’t be fair to give the class a historian they didn’t elect.”

“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard,” Medusa grumbled.

“I told you, Medusa, you need to take student council elections seriously,” Athena added. “Like it or not, you’re stuck with this now.”

Medusa rolled her eyes. “Fine. Whatever. But let me tell you, you guys are  _ stupid  _ for letting my bullshit candidate win.”

“As far as anyone knew, that was your nickname, and all the students voting knew they were voting for you,” said the woman.

“What kind of a nickname is Worm on a String?!”

“Yours, obviously,” replied a long-haired boy Medusa assumed was Baal.

Medusa shifted her weight on one leg and sighed. She had lost. Her brilliant prank had blown up in her face, and now she looked like an idiot. Athena had beat her at her own game, keeping silent when she knew that all this would fail. What a bitch. 

Athena came to Medusa and offered her hand. “Consider it a chance to get your act together,” she said. “You have the potential to be an excellent representative, Medusa.”

Medusa hesitated for a second, glaring at Athena’s hand before shaking it. Athena’s grip was firm, but her skin was smooth. Everything else considered, touching Athena’s hand wasn’t at all uncomfortable. 

“Hmph. We’ll see about that,” Medusa replied. 


End file.
